Bound by Blood Box Set

by Lane Hart

  "Three men have already called in, so we need you to come in tonight," Sergeant Carter tells me without preamble. It’s the weekend, and everyone with families or significant others occasionally calls in. Since I have neither I usually ended up covering for them. I don't begrudge them their happiness, even though I'll ever share it.

  "Alright. When?"

  "Six to six." I look at the clock. That gives me six hours. Six hours to try and keep my hands off of Cyn. Maybe I should just go on in.

  "See you then, if not before," I tell him.

  Three hours later I’m showered, shaved and dressed, ready to go. I can't stand being here with her any longer. I tried to find some relief by getting myself off in the shower. Twice. But it didn't help, and may have actually made it worse.

  "Let me see your phone," I tell Cyn when I finally walk back out into the living room. She’s sitting on her end of the couch beside Max, watching some sort of wedding reality TV show. Looking up at me a second, her gaze takes in my uniform before she hands her phone over.

  I enter my name, cell number and the station's number into her contacts, then hand it back.

  "Call me if you need me. Don't tell anyone in the building your real name, first or last. Don't answer the door for anyone. Look, you know you don't have to stay here…but I wish you would."

  "Okay. How long will you have to work?" she asks softly.

  "Until six in the morning at the earliest."

  "Oh," she says, lowering her eyes.

  "You're not going to miss me are you?" I tease, getting a small smile out of her.

  "Yes. I feel safer when you're here," she replies, breaking my damn heart when she looks up at me with sad emerald eyes. No wonder all those bastards with women called in sick on the night shifts.

  "Hey, don’t worry. Max will be here with you. I'm sure there's a ferocious bone somewhere in his chubby fluffy body, and you can always call me if you need to."

  "Okay," she answers sadly, her eyes downcast, shoulders slumped.

  I can't leave her looking like that! Although sad is better than pissed off at me, I guess. Bracing a hand on the top of the couch I lean down and cup her jaw with my other palm so that I can tilt her head up to kiss her. I tell myself I’m just trying to cheer her up and make her feel better, and it’s nothing more. But that’s a damn lie.

  God it feels good when our lips meet, then our tongues, and I completely surrender when her fingers pull me to her, combing through the back of my hair.

  "Fuck it," I say, realizing she thankfully wasn't going to push me away, and that it’s futile to try and keep my hands off of her. I run Max off and flop down beside her on the couch, pulling her on top of my lap so she’s straddling me, picking up where we left off the night before. After a few minutes she pulls her mouth from mine, still breathing heavily as her eyes search my face.

  "Don't you have to go?"

  "Not for three more hours," I say, covering her mouth again with mine.

  "But-" I silence her question with my tongue in her mouth.

  After she relaxes again, her hand goes down to the zipper on my pants, and I pull it gently away, intertwining my fingers with hers.

  "First base only. If we're going to do this, we're going to go slow," I tell her. "No quick, heat of the moment decisions that can be regretted."

  "You're no fun," she teases, moving her lips to my neck, licking and sucking my tender skin. The tingling sensation from there shoots straight to my groin, imagining how good it'd feel to have her mouth lower. "Is this permitted?" she asks.

  "Yes, but nothing below the neck," I answer, mostly reminding myself.

  "What are the other bases, just so I won't get disqualified?" she asks me. I can feel her smile against my skin.

  "Tomorrow hands and mouths to waists, Tuesday hands below the belt, Wednesday mouths below the belt, and Thursday all the fucking way."

  "I think you've got one too many bases there Officer. You may have to steal one of them right now. Weren't your eyes glued to my breasts yesterday?" she asks, rubbing her soft swells against my chest. Of course my eyes are now drawn right down to her cleavage. "Did you wonder what they'd feel like in your hands, or how they'd taste?"

  I groan. "Now I have no choice but to steal that base," I tell her. She does the honors of pulling her shirt over her head for the second day in a row in my living room. God, I could get used to seeing her perfect tits every damn day.

  I cover both heavy breasts with my hands, circling my thumbs over her nipples, teasing them. Cyn's back arches and she gasps as she hold onto my shoulders tightly, her body telling me she likes how I touch her, and it wants more.

  "Oh God, I've got to taste them," I warn her before my mouth moves to the closest one. I flick my tongue over the hard bud before sucking it into my mouth, making her moan.

  Over all my many years of sleeping with women, I've come to realize that some women have more sensitive breasts than others, and some find no pleasure at all from having my hands or mouth on them, which is a damn shame. Cyn luckily has some of the most beautiful, sensitive breasts I've ever touched. They’re so responsive in fact, that I’m almost sure I have her on the verge of coming. I hear and feel her breathing accelerate, and her legs straddling my hips clutch me tighter as she grinds her pelvis even harder against my throbbing erection.

  My mouth moves over to give the other breast the same attention while my fingers stay and tease the recently abandoned one. I know Cyn’s getting closer when her grip on my shoulders tightens, and it takes all of my restraint not to reach between her legs to stimulate her on over.

  Tomorrow.

  She moans soft and urgently, grinding her sex against my uniformed cock before her body quakes with her orgasm. I hold her to me, my palm spread across the center of her back, while my mouth moves up to her collarbone, then to her neck. Her forehead rests on my shoulder while she recovers, so I tip her chin up to kiss her delicious lips again.

  "My turn," she says when she eventually pulls her mouth away. Her nimble fingers begin unbuttoning her way down my uniform shirt. Once it’s pushed off she pulls my white cotton tee over my head. "Lie down," she orders me, pushing on my shoulders to urge them to flatten on the seat of the couch. She didn't have to tell me twice. I shift with her still straddling me, then her mouth starts its exploration of my chest, teasing my nipples before her tongue prods and her teeth nip around the ticklish skin of my belly button.

  She’s still topless, and between watching her breasts move with every small shift of her body, and the feeling of her mouth suctioning on my lower stomach, I’m close to losing it. My cock is so hard and aching, pressing against my zipper.

  "So tomorrow I get to touch you here?" she asks, grasping my swollen length through my pants, causing me to suck in a shaky breath.

  "Yes. Oh yes," I moan while she continues to stroke me through the layers of clothing. "Oh fuck Cyn, please don’t stop," I beg her, thrusting into her hand. I need a release like I need oxygen right that second, or I’m going to die. Without moving her hand from my length, her mouth licks lower, down the lines of my pelvic muscles.

  My fingers comb through her thick, beautiful, strawberry blonde hair until I can't take any more and pull her mouth back up to mine. Her hand stays in motion, but there’s too many layers and I’m dying.

  "This not doing it for you?" she asks above me.

  "I need more, but not today."

  "What about a compromise? If it's not against the rules, would you like to come between my breasts?"

  My cock twitches at the offer and I can't help my choked laugh. "There's only one answer to that question."

  She smiles while rising from her position over me, then lays face up on the other end of the couch, waiting for me. Leaning over her, braced on my knees, I reach down and caress her breasts with one hand while unzipping my pants with the other. Once I free my hard cock I get into place above her, knees on either side of her upper body.

  "God you're big," she says sof
tly, eyeing my length as I pump it in my fist.

  "Anything above three inches must look big to you," I joke.

  Letting go of my cock, I grab her breasts in each hand, teasing and playing with her nipples. Cyn arches her back, closing her eyes and moaning from my touch, making me think I could probably get her off again like this. Pushing her ample breasts together, I slide my length between the mounds and start moving against their softness while continuing to fondle her.

  Cyn’s hair is fanned out like flames against the black leather of the couch, and when her deep green eyes open and look up at me, pleasure and longing fill them.

  "God you're beautiful, Cyn," I tell her. She instantly drops those incredible eyes from mine, like she’s embarrassed or ashamed.

  Fuck.

  I shouldn't be on top of her like this. She deserves so much better. Better than me using her body to get myself off. I stop and start to move off of her, but her hands grab my hips.

  "What's wrong?" she asks.

  I scrub a hand over my face and try to figure out the answer.

  "You're not attracted to me?" she asks.

  "What? Are you crazy?" I exclaim. "I'm stopping because I want you so much that if I don't do it now I don't know when I'll be able to stop. It's just, it's not right to see you like this, underneath me, being treated this way."

  "Let me get you off before you go to work. You know you'll only be miserable all night if you stop now," she says, reaching up to trail her fingers down my chest and abs.

  "But I'm going to feel like shit if I let you," I counter.

  "But I can make you feel really, really good first," she says with a smile. She raises her head up, grabbing my cock and wrapping her hand around it before her lips cover the tip.

  "Jesus fucking goddamn," I sputter.

  Her free hand grasps my ass through my pants, pulling my lower body toward her mouth, and damn it, I go. I brace one hand down on the arm of the couch above her head to hold myself up. Reaching down, I weave my fingers through her beautiful hair, cupping her head to my body, guiding her warm, wet mouth up and down my cock. My hips thrust forward on their own, fucking her mouth as far as she'll take me. My body isn't letting any of my initial inhibitions get in the way of the pleasure that’s so close to consuming me. Everything goes out the window, and the only thing that matters is my building orgasm and making this amazing feeling last as long as possible.

  "Fuck that's good. Oh God, I'm so damn close," I warn her. Her hand on my ass presses against me, holding me in place until my body tenses and I come in her mouth with a groan of triumph.

  When my body finally stops shuddering and decides it’s going to do what I tell it to, I pull out of her mouth to move back down her body until we’re eye-to-eye again. My knees now straddling her hips, I look down at her face, pushing her hair out of the way to make sure she really is okay with the hedonistic thing I've just done to her. Cyn looks…rather pleased with herself, as she damn well should. Her swollen, bright red lips are curved up into a knowing smile, and her eyes look up into mine without the earlier hesitancy or shyness.

  "You are…that was…I can't form a fucking sentence."

  She laughs, happy and carefree, while reaching up to rub her fingertips tenderly over my jawline.

  "For forty-fucking-years I've been getting blow jobs all wrong. That is clearly how they're meant to be done."

  Her eyes widen and her smile falls. "You-you’re forty?"

  "Shit." Too late to deny it now. "Yes, but I only have the maturity of an eighteen-year-old boy."

  "But you don't look…"

  "Great genetics."

  "But-but you look younger than me. I guess I should've realized when you said your sister died years ago in childbirth and her daughter is grown that you were older…"

  "Yeah, Liz was twenty-one when she died."

  "And you still look twenty-one even though you're forty? How is that possible?"

  "Great-"

  "Bullshit. I'm not buying it," she snaps, cutting me off.

  "I can't explain it to you. I'm sorry," I say, before reluctantly climbing off of her to redress.

  "Do you drink blood?" she asks a few seconds later. Lying on her side, her head’s propped up on an elbow, distracting me because she’s still topless. When I realize what she just asked I bark out a laugh.

  "You think I'm a fucking vampire? Sorry sweetie but you watch way too much television."

  "Your niece ran off with a vampire."

  "Goddamn internet. I miss the days before everyone knew every fucking thing with the click of a few buttons."

  "Because you're so old you actually remember those times?"

  "Yeah. You don't?"

  "Nope," she answers, shaking her head with a smile. "So why did your niece run off with a vampire?"

  I pull my t-shirt over my head, then slide my arms into my uniform shirt.

  "I have no fucking idea. I haven't seen her since she was a few months old. I don't even know if she's alive. With the D.R.A. after her, she's probably dead."

  "Maybe not if she's with a vampire."

  "So you think the vampire is a good guy?" I ask, remembering the picture of the chubby bastard they'd shown on TV. What was Kate thinking, and Tom for that matter?

  "He must be for them to risk their lives to save him."

  "I guess," I shrug, never considering that explanation.

  "So what are you then, if you're not a vampire?" she asks, and my hands freeze on the last button of my shirt.

  "I'm…heading to work," I tell her dodging the question." I'll see you in the morning, okay?" I ask leaning down to give her a quick kiss goodbye.

  "Okay," she sighs.

  "Wish me luck. I'll probably be so distracted having flashbacks of how gorgeous you are right now and what you just did to me that I'll get shot," I tell her with a smile, which she returns.

  "Good luck. Oh and I think I might sleep in your bed tonight," she says, making me groan at the image of her sprawled out naked on my forest green sheets. "Hands below the belt tomorrow morning when you get home, right?"

  "Oh hell yes," I assure her with a last kiss goodbye.

  Chapter Five

  My young body is stiff and exhausted, making me feel my true age after the hellacious night shift. So much so in fact that even pulling open my lobby door is a chore. I start to walk past and ignore the wall of mailboxes, but know mine is probably heading towards full. I haven't checked the damn thing in days. I turn the key in the lock and sure enough, mail comes pouring out onto the floor.

  I grab up all the envelopes and start shuffling through them. Most of it is garbage, mixed in with a few of the standard bills, but there’s one handwritten letter that catches my attention.

  I’m zombie walking to the elevator when I tear off the side of the envelope and pull out the folded note. The handwritten words stop me dead in my tracks.

  "Jason, we know what you are, and we're one in the same. What you don't know is that you're capable of more than all five of us combined. You're not going to be able to hide much longer. Fate has other plans for you. We'll come for you after you're exposed, and help you find your nieces. Destiny is calling, time to pick up the fucking phone."

  Shit! I look around the lobby, suddenly feeling paranoid. I flip over the envelope to see where it came from, but there isn't a return address. There isn't even a postage stamp. The damn thing was hand-delivered.

  I push the elevator button several times, like that'll make it come sooner. I don't know when the letter was put in my box, and I need to make sure Cyn is okay.

  The slow ass elevator finally arrives and takes me to the fourth floor. I toss the mail down and have my gun out while I wander through the dark, quiet apartment, but everything looks like it did hours earlier. I put my gun away, give Max a pat, then go down the hall to my bedroom.

  Damn, I like the way Cyn looks in my bed, one bare, shapely leg on top of the covers, a breast peeking out of the sheet as she sleeps on her side,
red hair spilling over the pillow. Her pale skin is illuminated by the sunrise just starting to shine through the window. I want to strip and get in bed with her, but I desperately need a shower first. I take Max out for a walk, looking over my shoulder the entire time, then head for the shower. My thoughts instantly go back to the note, and I try to think through the message while I wash the nightshift's scum from my body.

  They know I’m a warlock and that's what "they" are too. I'm capable of what all five of them can do combined? Why the hell is that? The message about being exposed worries me the most. That’s why I can’t have any relationships with women, or have close friends. If they're right and I'm about to be exposed, everyone around me will go down too. Fuck! I need to get Cyn away from me. Today will have to be my last day with her. I need to find somewhere else for her to stay that’s safe, because I’m anything but that if I’m about to be outed. The fucked up thing is I’m selfish, and not ready to let her go.

  Whoever these fuckers are, they said they also know my niece is still alive…and maybe even know where she is? No, it said nieces, plural. How is that even possible unless…Kate has a daughter? Hell that has to be it. Her daughter would be a witch too. Could Kate or Tom know the warlocks that left the note?

  I dry off, then climb in bed wearing nothing but boxers, curling up beside the gorgeous naked woman I have no right to share any space with. I just want to lay with her and hold her for a few hours before I have to say goodbye.

  Cyn wiggles in her sleep before she actually wakes up and rolls over to face me.

  "Jason, you're home," she says, wrapping her arms tightly around me, and burying her face in my neck. The way she said home sends a jolt of longing through me, making me wish it was ours.

  "Yeah, I'm home. Go back to sleep," I tell her, resting my chin on the top of her head and breathing in the sweet smell of apples. I can’t believe how much I’m going to miss this.

  I can feel her warm breath against my neck, then her lips, weakening my resolve to do what’s best for her. I roll to my back to get some air and put space between us but she only follows, climbing on top of me. When she leans down to kiss me, I want her so much I’m not sure I can let her go, which sends me into a panic. My selfishness is going to end up getting her killed if I don’t get her away from me now. I can't have another death on my conscience, especially not hers.